


to be so lost in love only to find yourself again

by NoGood_InGoodbye



Series: Lost In Love [1]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/F, Jesse/OC-ish, Romance, Soulmates, very very VERY minor staubrey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-07 15:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12235356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoGood_InGoodbye/pseuds/NoGood_InGoodbye
Summary: “It’supside down, Chlo,” she said for the fourth time in the span of an hour. Why anybody let her hold the map was beyond her.Or: The compass soulmate fic where Chloe still sucks at maps, Kommissar holds no power over Beca, and Anna Camp makes an appearance.





	1. Chloe Beale

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever Pitch Perfect fic! This is actually a finished four-shot and I'll update it every three/four days (so someone remind me constantly, hahahaha)! Please tell me what you think and someone teach me to tag.
> 
> Also, if you have any questions about the 'verse, feel free to ask!
> 
>  
> 
> SOULMATE AU – Where you actually have a compass instead of a clock, and it leads you to where your soulmate should be.
> 
> Prompt/Soulmate idea taken from [here](http://silentpeaches.tumblr.com/post/125291322610/soulmate-au-story-ideas).

Chloe Beale loved to travel. Especially when her parents would hold both her hands and swing her as they walked, telling her all about how they’d gone on a wild goose chase when their compasses had appeared and found each other in a pub in Ireland, of all places.

Her big blue eyes would widen at every monument, her little mouth grinning at the sight of new food, her ears absorbing every new sound and song that filled the streets. Chloe Beale loved to travel.

It’s too bad, then, that her sense of direction was shit.

* * *

 

“Is Caleb bad at arrows, too, Daddy?” little Chloe asked as she watched her mother consoling her eldest brother.

“Arrows?” her father repeated, scooping her into his arms as he started to lead her out the kitchen.

“Yeah! The ones on your hand,” Chloe tapped the back of her blank hand, the same spot her own mother and father’s compasses have faded into tattoos.

“Oh, princess, your brother doesn’t have a compass yet,” her father gently explained as he started to tuck her into bed.

The little redhead pouted. “Why not?”

“Only those who are ready for love can get their compasses,” his tone was soft as he bundled her up. “See, everyone can love, but not everyone knows how to. Compasses only appear for those who are really ready for that love.”

“I know how to love!” Chloe nearly burst out of her cocoon. “Where’s my coin pass?”

“ _Com_ pass, princess, and I know you can love, baby girl, but now just isn’t your time. Someday, okay?”

“Tomorrow?”

“We’ll see, princess. Goodnight.”

“Night! Love you!”

* * *

Chloe Beale loved to travel.

She didn’t mind waking up at five in the morning to get to Barden before noon. She loved the trip almost as much as the destination itself. Even if the previous year hadn’t ended on a high note, she knew she couldn’t enter her last year at Barden defeated. She and Aubrey had more than enough charm to win over new Bellas. They could do this _and_ win Nationals. They could _do_ this.

The minute she’d unpacked her things, she’d slipped out of the apartment she shared with Aubrey and made her way to the activities fair to help set up their booth. They’d need to start recruiting as soon as they could.

Hours had passed and not one person had spared a glance at their booth. Everything was falling apart.

As much as she loved Aubrey, her pride at choosing specific types of Bellas was _killing_ them. They couldn’t go back to being the same Bellas they were last year—they couldn’t afford to! They couldn’t afford to look for girls with “bikini ready bodies” who could sing anymore. They needed singers—even if they didn’t fit Aubrey’s “Bella criteria.”

After finally getting a blond Australian to agree to auditions, they continued to try recruiting. Minutes later, a cute brunette caught Chloe’s eye. She was short and thin and pale and seemed to be wandering aimlessly. She was alone but didn’t look like she was lonely—or wanted company.

She pointed with her pen, “Oh, what about her?”

Aubrey followed, a grimace immediately twisting her lips. “I don’t know, she looks a little too _alternative_ , for us.”

Chloe couldn’t hold back her eyeroll before turning to the girl and holding out a flyer. “Hi, any interest in joining our acapella group?”

“Oh, right, this is, like, a _thing_ now,” the girl looked up from the paper, teasing grin on her lips.

“Oh, totes,” Chloe took it in stride, advertising-mode on. “We sing covers of songs but we do it without _any_ instruments. It’s all from our _mouths_.”

The disbelief was clear on the girl’s face before it shifted to a grimace, “Yikes.”

Nothing deterred Chloe from recruiting the girl, though. There was something about her that drew the redhead in. After a short explanation of each group in campus, she shot the girl a smile, “So, are you interested?”

“Sorry, it’s just, it’s pretty lame.” She’d only been talking to the girl for less than a minute but somehow she _knew_ she’d say that. Still, she couldn’t hide the slight disappointment and embarrassment she felt as Aubrey started to lash out.

She stopped Aubrey before she could say anything drastic. “We sing all over the world and we compete in national championships.”

“On purpose?”

“We played the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Center, you bitch—”

“What Aubrey means to say,” Chloe jumps in at both girls’ reactions. “Is that we are a close-knit, talented group of ladies whose dream is to return to the national finals at Lincoln Center this year.” Her voice turned from wistful to hopeful, soft, “Help us turn our dreams into a reality?”

The girl looked moved—for a second. “Sorry, I—don’t even sing—but it was really nice to meet you guys.”

Chloe tried to find more words to make her stay, her voice failing as the girl walked away. She tried to hide her disappointment at the awkward encounter, her eyes trailing after the girl before falling to her clipboard. It was a big campus, she doubted she’d ever see the girl again.

* * *

Days had passed and auditions were coming up and Chloe was stressed.

She was _stressed_.

So, she dealt with her stress and frustrations the only way she knew how.

By hooking up with someone.

Sure, she was still waiting for her compass, but that didn’t mean she had to stay _celibate_ for fuck’s sake. She just wanted a good, stress-relieving fuck with as little to no attachments as possible.

That was how she met Tom.

And that was also why she was letting him grope her in the dorm showers.

She tilted her head as she let him kiss down her neck when suddenly, she heard the most melodic sound. Singing. Someone was singing their way into the shower and _fuck_.

It was her _lady jam_.

She could hear the girl moving her things into the stall close by as she pushed back from a very confused and disgruntled Tom. She held a finger to her lips as a shower head started and quietly slipped out of her stall with a little signal for the man to wait.

She was in front of the stall in an instant, her brain telling her she was being stupid but her body and the upcoming auditions trumping over logic and sanity. She started pulling on the curtain reluctantly before she sucked in a breath and let it out, opening it quietly but determinedly—an awe-struck grin tilting her lips at the sight of the cute little “alt” girl singing her song. Her “lady jam” song.

The way she bounced and bobbed, nodding to the song as she sway a little here and there as she sang entranced her. Chloe’s grin couldn’t get any wider.

At the lull in the song, she enthused, “You can sing!”

The girl freaked out. “Dude!”

She pulled the curtain back open and turned off the shower as she forged on. “How high does your belt go?”

“My _what_? Oh my god!”

“You _have_ to audition for the Bellas.”

“I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying until you cover your junk.”

“Just—consider it. One time we sang backup for Prince!” A fond memory tilting the redhead’s lips. “His butt is so tiny that I can hold it with, like, one hand.”

The girl tried to cover herself with the shower curtain but Chloe’s arms accidentally—or was it _really_? Even Chloe could admit the girl was hot (tattoos, ear monstrosities, and all)—knocked her coverings away.

“Seriously?! I am nude,” the girl turned away to leave her backside exposed and Chloe tried her best not to stare at her ass.

Her eyes quickly moved back up. “You were singing Titanium, right?”

She watched a small smile quirk the girl’s lips. “You know David Guetta?”

“Have I been living under a rock?” Chloe tried not to roll her eyes. “Yeah. That song is my jam.” Even _she_ couldn’t explain why she’d let the next few words slip. “My _lady_ jam.”

“O-kay.”

“It is,” she’d let it spill already. Might as well accept it. “That song really builds.”

“Gross.”

“Can you sing it for me?”

“Dude, no! Get out!”

“Not for _that_ reason. I’m not leaving here until you sing. So.”

A few seconds passed in awkward silence, but she didn’t mind staying nude in a stall with an equally nude—if not more gorgeous—girl. Eventually, the girl turned to face her and started singing.

Chloe grinned as she started, letting her gain her bearings by starting the song before jumping in to harmonize.

Fuck.

She never realized how amazing the acoustics were in the showers.

She’d definitely be willing to try this again sometime.

They finished singing and shared a smile before the girl remembered that they were both ass naked. Her eyes flew up and Chloe looked down.

“Oh, yeah, I’m pretty confident about—all this,” she smiled, because it was true. She’d always be more embarrassed about wearing the wrong outfit over being nude.

The girl’s eyes trailed down before quickly finding hers again, “You should be.”

Chloe grinned at the complement before remembering that the girl wasn’t as confident. She turned around to grab the towel and handed it to her. The girl whispered something under her breath before Chloe heard Tom behind her.

“You have a lovely voice.”

“ _Thanks_.”

Chloe’s ears still rung with the sound of their singing, content and happy to have heard such a wonderful voice. It took a few more seconds before her eyes found the girl’s and she remembered what she was previously doing. “Oh, right.”

She started making her way out, Tom trailing her as his hands fell on her hips. She called over her shoulder. “See you at auditions!”

* * *

The morning after aca-initiation night, Chloe was sporting a horrible hangover. Somehow, Aubrey had managed to kick out her latest fling and left her a nice, full glass of water and some Advil to keep her headache at bay. Groggily, she’d taken the pills before tumbling out of bed.

It was only by the time she’d drained her second cup of coffee and finished her toast that she noticed the Big Difference.

Her hand was no longer bare.

There in the center of the back of her left hand was a white little compass pointing North West.

Her breath caught in her throat as her fingers gingerly touched the thing. It didn’t have a glass case, but even if she held her fingers over the arrow, she felt nothing. It was strange and wonderful and _scary_ but she’d been waiting for this her _whole life_. She could finally look for her soulmate.

A face-splitting grin brightening her eyes, she moved as fast as an excited hungover person could—stumbling and cursing but really just excited to get out there and find them.

Of course, it was only until she’d taken a shower and was fully dressed that she realized that she couldn’t go in headfirst like she normally did. What if her soulmate wasn’t even _in_ Barden? What if they were in another town, or state, or even _country_?

With a resigned sigh, she grabbed her school things and pulled on a sweater. As much as she was _excited_ about finally having her soulcompass, she didn’t want to answer any questions about it just yet. She needed some time to form a plan.

By the time their first Bella practice rolled around hours later, Aubrey already knew—“ _that’s great, Chlo, but Bellas first, okay? I really need you with me_ ”—and she’d decided to let things slide for now. She had the Bellas to focus on. She could always find her soulmate later.

“Are you okay?” Beca—the “alt” girl she’d recruited from the showers—asked as the others started looking around their practice room. As different and alternative the freshman looked, she wasn’t a quarter as bad as Aubrey had first thought she’d be. She was kind and caring—in her own quirky, sarcastic way.

“Hm? Yeah, of course. Why?” the redhead had replied, looking up from her pile of songs set in hand. It was the same set, but she figured that if she rifled through them long enough, they just might get changed through the sheer force of her will.

“You’re wearing a sweater and it isn’t exactly chilly in this room,” Beca pointed out, an eyebrow quirked as Chloe blushed at being outed. She didn’t realize it would be that noticeable.

“Oh, well, I get cold pretty easily.”

Beca didn’t look the least bit convinced, but she shrugged and started to join the others staring at old Bella pictures. “Okay then.”

By the time Aubrey had called their first break, she was drenched. Cardio was fine, but cardio and choreography while in a sweater in an auditorium with broken air-conditioning (they had to wait two more weeks before it could get fixed) sucked. It sucked shit.

Sitting far enough from the group that they wouldn’t be able to see, she rolled her sleeves up and wiped away the sweat building on her arms. When she returned the towel to its spot on the floor, she realized that her arrow had moved. And then moved. And then moved again.

Her heart started to race all over again, her eyes following the arrow as it swayed back and forth, only ever moving left or right and never south. That meant…

Her eyes moved from the arrow to the girls messing around with each other. She brought her hand up to stand at eye level with the mass of girls, finding that the arrow seemed to be following one of them. She figured out who it was soon enough.

The arrow following the petite brunette up towards the pillar where she’d charged her phone.

She felt her breath hitch. Beca.

 _Beca_.

Beca Mitchell was her _soulmate_.

She felt like she should be terrified. Aubrey had ranted about the girl for an hour and half after the activities fair incident and she’d had her first ever argument with her best friend because she didn’t want to give Beca a chance in the group. She should have been scared that she was supposed to find her happily ever after in a girl with a hell of a lot of snark and a hell of a lot more eyeliner. She should have been wary of the fact that she didn’t know the girl—not really. A failed first meeting, abrupt second meeting in the showers, and third meeting at initiation did not build a relationship.

But she was looking at Beca and she didn’t _feel_ scared. Or terrified. Or even the least bit wary.

She felt warm.

Fuzzy in the way Beca snorted at Stacie’s innuendos and shook her head at Amy’s jokes. Softened at the sight of Beca’s nose wrinkling at CR’s stories. Filled at the sound of her harmonizing with all the other girls. Warm at the way she enthusiastically recommended a playlist to Jessica. Secure at the memory of her worried brows knitting together as she’d asked if she were okay.

She couldn’t find it in herself to be scared of loving Beca.

After all, she could already feel herself falling.


	2. Beca Mitchell

Beca Mitchell hated to travel. It took forever and even her best mixes couldn’t save her from shitty company. Especially when that shitty company was her dad and step-mother. Sure, things were getting better on the ‘dad-front’, as Chloe had dubbed it, but that didn’t mean she had enjoyed spending so much _time_ with him. She’d rather watch a fucking _movie_ with _Jesse_ than spend summer break with her old man.

“Oh, come on, Beca,” her dad looked at her in the passenger seat. “I thought you said the breakup wasn’t even that _bad_.”

“It wasn’t,” she sighed for what felt like the billionth time that day. It felt like her dad was always pinning her shitty moods with her recent—it really wasn’t, seven months is a _really long time ago, dad_ —breakup with Jesse. They were still friends, Jesse and his girlfriend being the first to learn of her new crush a month after their breakup. Jesse even going as far as dubbing himself her lesbro when she realized that she’d started preferring women—or _a_ woman—almost half a year ago, but Jesse had stopped hanging out with her dad after they broke up. She felt like her dad was more devastated about it than she was.

“Then why are you grouching again?”

“Because my _dad_ is driving me to _school_ like I’m still in preschool.”

“I _work_ in your school, Beca, it only makes sense for us to go there together.”

“Chloe was willing to fetch me,” Beca grumbled, burrowing into her seat as she put up the volume on her phone. There was only so much dad she could take today.

Admittedly, most of her sour mood was because her dad had insisted on driving her to Barden, and when she’d told Chloe (who had previously offered to drive to her for a mini-road trip), the girl had insisted she spend some time with her dad. No arguments of “I spent the whole fucking summer with him, Chlo” or “He doesn’t even listen to music in the car!” had been enough to persuade the redhead into fetching her. That was a shitty best friend move right there.

And that, as her father played another podcast about linguistics, was why she hated travelling.

* * *

She didn’t know why she was keeping everything a secret. It just sort of… _happened_. She’d told Jesse about it because he had a car and he still owed her for hooking him up with an old friend of hers. It was honestly kind of disgusting, seeing how mushy he got with Anna, but whatever, he said he’d make her his best woman or chick or dude or whatever they’d end up calling it when they got married.

Still, she didn’t know why she felt the need to sneak around about her internship. The Bellas have been nothing but supportive of her and each other these past four years. Chloe failed Russian Lit? Celebratory shots! Stacie got some badass science award? Celebratory cake! CR found her soulmate? Celebratory dinner! Fat Amy finally stopped bringing her flings into the Bella house? Celebratory party!

They celebrated and encouraged and supported one another through everything—what was she so afraid of now?

It was Chloe’s text that reminded her.

It wasn’t really fear, but she could see the stress and frustration building in those wide blue eyes and she knew she couldn’t live with herself if she disappointed Chloe or added anything else on the supersenior’s plate. Over the years, the redhead had become a pillar of strength for Beca and now she needed to be the same.

She arrived at the Trebles’ party and spotted Jesse first, arm wrapped around his blond girlfriend’s waste as she neared.

“Hey you two,” she greeted them and they grinned back.

Jesse let Anna stand so he could give her a quick hug. “Hey! You made it!”

“So? How was the internship?” Anna asked, because telling Jesse about her internship was basically telling Anna—the two were so annoyingly close it was puke-wrenching—stepping in for her own little hug before the two settled back into their seat.

“Eye-opening,” Beca admitted, smiling at the pair before her eyes moved to the crowd, trying to find a familiar color amongst the mass of students. “They do not mess around.”

“Hey, Chloe,” Beca’s eyes met Jesse’s at the name. “Asked where you were? Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Oh, she’d just,” her eyes returning to the crowd as she fiddled with the ring on her thumb. “She’s, like, locked into the Worlds right now and I’m just looking for the right time. I’ll tell her.”

“You really should,” the pair chorused together—weirdos. She replied with a roll of her eyes and a short nod before offering them a little wave and slipping into the sea of people to look for said redhead.

She found her minutes later, challenging some sophomore to flip cup.

“Beca!” the redhead cheered after flipping her last cup, the defeated sophomore slinking away as Beca received the first victory hug. “Where have you been? You weren’t with Jesse or Anna and hadn’t texted any of us!”

“Yeah, sorry,” Beca cringed, returning the hug before offering her an apologetic smile. “Had something to finish, but I met the Legacy.”

“Emily? She’s great, right?!” Chloe already smelled like booze and Beca chuckled, shaking her head as she led her to a less crowded spot. Her hold was gentle as she led the redhead by her elbow, glaring at anyone who dared stumble into their little bubble.

“She’s excitable, like _someone_ I know,” the brunette replied fondly, giving the girl a light nudge with her shoulder.

“Oh, please, you love me,” Chloe scoffed, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close.

“Yeah, I do,” Beca couldn’t even hide her grin, Chloe’s smile softer and seemingly sober in reply.

“Hey aca-bitches!” Fat Amy called from across the pool. “CR’s finally going to show us a picture of her soulmate!”

The two turned back to each other, matching grins as they bounded through the crowd to finally see Cynthia Rose’s “mysterious” lover.

* * *

Beca Mitchell hated to travel, but she never minded it as much when Chloe sat next to her.

The redhead’s gloved hand held hers, her bare thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of her hand. As stressed as she was from her internship, senior theses, the Bellas messing up performances, and from the Worlds, Chloe always found a way to keep her grounded. She felt bad, missing so much time with her best friend in favor of an internship that seemed to be falling apart. Yet, by some miracle, despite the fact that she hadn’t told Chloe anything yet, the girl knew what she needed, when she needed it.

When the van slowed to a halt, Chloe shot her a small smile and gave her hand a quick squeeze before letting go to grab her own things.

After the little reunion with Aubrey and taking almost three hours to set the tent, Beca was tired and sour. As Fat Amy left the tent and finally gave everyone a chance to breathe proper air again, Beca slightly regretted turning to face Chloe.

“What are we doing here?” she whispered aggressively. No matter how fucking blue Chloe’s eyes looked up close or how soft her lips seemed—fuck. No. She was angry.

“We’re bonding,” Chloe replied breezily, a blinding smile making Beca scowl. “You seem so tense, do you need a back rub?”

Beca was proud of herself for fighting down the urge to say ‘yes’, shaking off her hand, retorting, “Several body parts are rubbing my back right now, thank you.”

“You know, Beca, we’re really close but I feel like this retreat is really going to let us discover everything about each other.”

She held in a shiver, instead, quirking her brow. “Is that right?”

Chloe nodded, smiling, “You know, one of my biggest regrets is that I didn’t do enough experimenting in college.”

She gulped down the lump in her throat. “You’re so weird.”

A blinding smile. “Thanks.”

“I want to go home,” she turned back around, even if Chloe’s breath ghosting her face felt warm and blue eyes and red hair felt more like home than her actual bed.

* * *

It was Stacie who noticed it that morning.

“Holy _shit_ , Beca.”

“What? _What_?” Beca jumped, checking her surroundings frantically.

Stacie took two long strides to grab her left hand and stilled her, flipping the back of her hand up. “ _Someone’s_ in love.”

Beca’s eyes fell to her hand, a perfectly round compass pointing straight North towards Stacie. Her mind slowed. “Wh- _What_?”

Stacie furtively looked around, finding all the Bellas occupied. She took Beca by the elbow and steered her behind a tree. Aside from Chloe and Fat Amy, Beca had really gotten close to the girl who dubbed her vagina male. The girl was actually really damn smart and gave good advice when she actually thought for longer than five seconds.

“Beca, breathe,” Stacie instructed and it was only then that the brunette realized she had stopped. The pair did a few deep breathing exercises, Stacie leading Beca back to a normal pace. “It’s okay, it’s just your soulcompass.”

Beca scowled, “Easy for you to say, you’re _dating_ your soulmate!”

A wistful smile crossed Stacie’s face as her eyes wandered past the tree towards the blond chastising some Bellas for their mess. She shook herself out of her thoughts as brown eyes fell back to blue. “Yeah, but you don’t have to follow it _right away_ , Beca. Aubrey and I took months before we actually did anything.”

Beca’s eyes fell to the floor, her heart pounding as she continued to take in deep breaths. It was terrifying, learning you were marked. As happy as Stacie and Aubrey or CR and Denise or even Jesse and Anna seemed after finding each other, she couldn’t find it in herself to trust the soulmate marks. Not after her parents. The universe had already fucked up enough of her life—she didn’t feel like giving it the satisfaction to shit on her love life, as well.

“You don’t even know if your soulmate is here,” neither girl believed Stacie’s words, but they kept quiet, Beca’s shaking hand rising to fall into their line of sight. Despite the tremor in her fingers, the arrow stayed straight and true, pointing south to wherever her soulmate was at the moment. “Look, I’ll get a bandage wrap and we can cover it before Aubrey continues drilling us, okay?”

Beca replied with a meek nod, eyes never leaving the compass as Stacie passed her and returned to the group. Curious and terrified and—just the smallest hint— _hopeful_ , she turned from her spot by the tree to follow the arrow’s direction. The arrow turned back North as she turned to face the Bellas, her stomach tightening at what she knew in the back of her mind and the front of her heart.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the arrow, afraid that if she looked away for just a second, she’d look back to find it cracked. Just like her mother’s.

Her jaw clenched as she stared at the clean compass, arrow staying firmly in place until it moved a little to the right. Her eyes followed the small movement, reluctantly rising to find the Bellas gathering to the right. She could feel her pulse jump to her throat.

Stacie arrived with a roll of bandaging before she could overthink things.

“You okay, Becs?” deep blue eyes found hers the second they returned to the group.

“Yeah, why?” her brows furrowed, seeing the clear worry in sea blue.

“Your hand,” Chloe waved pointedly at the limb. Concern clear on her face.

Her eyes trailed down to her bandaged left hand. “Oh, no, yeah, it’s fine.”

“Just a little sprain,” Stacie covered for her—thank fuck. She knew she kept the girl around for a reason.

“Are you sure you don’t want to check in with the medics, then?” the redhead’s teeth nibbled on her lip and hot _damn_ did Beca want to kiss away the furrow in her brows. “Beca?”

It took a second before Beca remembered to answer. “Um, no, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Definitely.”

Definitely. She’d be good wherever Chloe was.

* * *

Another few hours practicing and Beca was _exhausted_ and frustrated and hadn’t used her laptop in two whole _days_ because Aubrey was a slave-driver and she still needed to make that stupid fucking original song by next week and she _still_ hadn’t checked her compass even if she already had an inkling of who it actually was but she didn’t want to hold her hopes up because she’d be more than just fucked if it weren’t her. A part of her really didn’t want to know.

“I’m sorry, _what_ are we doing?” she snapped after they ended another song.

Chloe looked exasperated, but her voice was gentle. “We’re rediscovering our sound.”

She wasn’t really angry at anyone—it’s just that everything seemed pretty shitty at the moment. She was tired and sweaty and dirty as fuck and the universe had decided to fuck her over by telling her that, _hey, you’re going to finally get someone who loves you unconditionally whom you may or may not end up fucking over anyways because you’re shit at emotions and handling relationships properly but still, have fun!_

Even so, she couldn’t stop the words from spilling past her lips, “ _Are_ we? Cause it feels like we’re singing songs that would _never_ go in our set.”

Chloe’s voice was soft. “Beca, come on.”

“No, none of us know how to beat Das Sound Machine but I _know_ it’s not going to be by doing _this_.”

She couldn’t stomach Aubrey’s reply. “I’ve got more important things to do!”

“What could be more important than _this_?”

She tried to eat her words at the sight of the hurt that dulled blue eyes. “Nothing! Forget it.”

“No, you don’t think that we haven’t all realized you’ve been a little checked out lately?”

And she knew. Beca knew that they knew she wasn’t giving this her hundred percent, but that didn’t mean she wanted Fat Amy to _out_ her in front of everyone.

“I _heard_ that. Tell me what?” Chloe’s voice broke at the last word and she was thankful she wasn’t looking at the redhead.

She let Fat Amy ramble and try to cover up as she gathered her own thoughts. This was _not_ how she’d planned on telling Chloe—on the rare occasion that she ever thought of telling her. Taking a deep shuddering breath, she steeled herself, “Okay.”

She looked up to meet impossibly blue eyes. “I’ve been interning at a recording studio and a legit music producer wants to hear my work—god forbid! I have something going on outside this group.”

“Okay! So why would you _keep_ something like that from us?” And Beca may have been bad at reading people, but she knew Chloe. She could hear that silent “from _me_ ” in the depths of her voice.

“Cause you’re obsessed!” she could feel the sting in her eyes. Anger, pain, sadness, guilt? Who knew, but the words fell faster than her brain could even process. “You all are! We’re graduating and the only person thinking about life after the Bellas is me.”

“What is so _wrong_ with being focused on the Bellas? This has been my _family_ for seven years.”

“Yeah, cause you’re too scared to _leave_!” This was—is—Beca’s biggest regret. Her heaviest guilt. That _she_ might have been the reason Chloe stayed. That she hadn’t been a good enough captain. That she hadn’t been a good enough Bella. That she hadn’t been a good enough friend. That _she_ might have shit on _Chloe’s_ life, too. “Sack _up_ , dude!”

And she understood. She _understood_ where Chloe was coming from but did she not _see_? Did Chloe not see that the world—not the Worlds, but the real fucking _world_ — _needed_ the brilliance and kindness and generosity and love that was _Chloe fucking Beale_? Did she not understand that the Bellas are supposed to be _her_ weight, and _her_ baggage, and _her_ fucking responsibility because the Bellas were _Beca’s_ burden, not Chloe’s. Chloe Beale deserved better. For _fuck’s sake_ , Chloe Beale deserved the _universe_ —fuck the Worlds. Chloe Beale was better off without the extra burden. Without the Bellas. Without Beca. Chloe Beale was _better_. Couldn’t she _see_ that?

“Oh my god. _Enough_ about the Worlds! I can’t—I am out of here,” because if Chloe Beale wouldn’t leave, then Beca would. Beca would live in a Chloe-less world so that the world could have more of Chloe Beale.

“Oh, okay, so you’re just going to _leave_ now?!”

Gathering the last ounce of strength and unbridled anger she had, “We all have to eventually, Chloe, it might as well be now!”

Every step felt like lead, her heart hammered and her hand burned and maybe it was cracking—she deserved it—she knew she did, even before the words left her mouth. “If you all knew what was good for you, you’d follow me!”

She didn’t mean it, which was why she was honestly a bit grateful that the bear trap had stopped her. Didn’t mean she wasn’t scared shitless, but still, grateful. Thankful. Secretly.

* * *

It was only when they got back to the Bella house and she and Stacie had bought her proper gloves that she had finally, properly inspected her compass.

In the confines of her room, she watched the clear, clean circle remain crack-free. She knew, from both experience and logic, that cracks didn’t just suddenly _appear_ in soulmate marks, but that they’re there from the moment you get them. Still, she couldn’t stop the pit in her stomach as she watched the arrow waver back and forth between the first two notches before and after ‘N’.

Her free hand played with the biker’s glove she’d bought—because _biker’s gloves are cool, Stace, fuck off_ —her music spilling from the headphones wrapped around her neck. Her heart seemed to be following the beat of the song, a steady rhythm before the arrow started moving right as footsteps bounded up the stairs. Then her heart went staccato at every step.

She held in a breath as the arrow seemed to stop right at her door. Her hand started to shake, but the arrow never strayed.

Three sharp knocks followed by a, “Becs?”

She let out a shuddering breath, shakily pulling her glove back on before clearing her throat, managing a clear, “Yeah?”

Chloe opened the door to poke her head in. “The girls are ordering in and demanding a movie night. Want anything with your pineapples?”

She blinked. One two three seconds. “Um, fries?”

“Alright,” Chloe nodded, opening the door a little more as she gave her a long, calculating look. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she hid her hands under her pillow—it was more of nerves than her hiding it. “Just tired.”

Chloe looked suspicious but didn’t push, nodding reluctantly as she stepped back out. “I’ll get you when the girls finally decide on a movie.”

“Okay,” because she needed time to process and think and just not be in the same room as Chloe fucking Beale with the impossibly blue eyes and orange smelling breath and thin, soft lips and—shit.

Chloe made her feel things. And do things. And hope for things. And love things. And _fuck_.

Chloe was her _soulmate_.

She was equal parts terrified and hopeful.

She was terrified she’d mess up. Terrified she’d hurt her. Terrified she’d fuck up. Terrified she’d disappoint. Terrified she’d end up ruining their relationship. Terrified she wouldn’t be good enough. Terrified she wouldn’t be _enough_. Terrified.

She was hopeful she’d be loved in return—because her glass wasn’t cracked and she knew Chloe had hers, gloves weren’t exactly a _trend_ in Barden. Hopeful she’d be given the chance to cherish the wonder and beauty that is Chloe Beale. Hopeful she’d get the chance to kiss the creases between her brows. Hopeful she’d have soft lips melt into her own. Hopeful she’d wake up to strong, warm arms holding her close. Hopeful she’d drown in blue, blue nothingness. Hopeful.

She was equal parts terrified and hopeful, but she didn’t do anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO!!! I got a bit excited and posted ahead of three days, but, hey! An update~ I also realized that the story summary mentioned Kommissar but she isn't mentioned once in this story but I guess that does mean that Beca isn't interested because she doesn't even notice the woman, right? Riiiiggghhhhtttt???
> 
>  _ALSO_ , I WATCHED **IRON JAWED ANGELS** A COUPLE DAYS AGO AND _FUCKING SHIT_ AM I THE ONLY ONE THAT SEES BECHLOE IN ALICE AND LUCY???? If _anyone's_ watched it and sees thAT ALICE PAUL IS BECA, LUCY BURNS IS CHLOE, CARRIE CATT IS AUBREY, BEN WEISSMAN IS JESSE, AND EMILY LEIGHTON IS ACA-CHILD EMILY!!!! SOMEONE!!! SOMEONE PLEASE MAKE THIS HAPPEN!!!! I AM NEITHER AMERICAN NOR A HISTORY OR FEMINISM/GENDER STUDIES MAJOR/MINOR SO I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE ABOUT THE SUFFRAGE MOVEMENT OR AMERICAN HISTORY IN GENERAL BUT FUCK! THAT SHIT NEEDS TO GET FUCKING _WRITTEN_ FAM!!!!
> 
> Please tell me if there's any typos or mistakes! I've checked this thrice but there's only so much a brain can take :(


	3. Beca Mitchell & Chloe Beale

Beca Mitchell hated to travel, but she’d always been good at reading maps and geography—which was more than anyone could say about Chloe Beale.

“It’s _upside down_ , Chlo,” she said for the fourth time in the span of an hour. Why _anybody_ let her hold the map was beyond her.

“Sorry!” the redhead grinned sheepishly before turning it around, squinting as she pulled the map closer. “Okay, now let’s see…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Beca rolled her eyes, taking the map from her co-captain and finding the street they were on. “The KFC’s the third store after we turn left on the first turn.”

“ _Finally_!” Fat Amy cheered, bounding past the pair and Stacie and Flo faster than she’s ever done cardio. Beca folded the map up, tucking it into her bag before sliding an arm around the redhead’s waist.

“Jeez, Chlo, you’d think you’d get better at reading maps after taking it for three years,” Beca teased, hip-checking her lightly as they continued their pace behind Stacie and Flo.

Chloe grinned back, free arm resting on her shoulder as she pulled her closer—Beca didn’t want to know if it was because the umbrella was small or otherwise. “You know the only reason I passed was because Dr. Venci was tired of seeing me in her class?”

“You give superseniors a bad name.”

“We already have bad names.”

The laughter that followed paved way for the easy banter the pair had only recently fallen into. It had taken a while for the two to fall back into the swing of things. After the retreat and Beca’s three-day-soulmate-realization-freak-out—as Stacie had lovingly dubbed it—the little DJ had all but shut herself off from the world for almost a whole week. It took a lot of coaxing and Chloe visiting every half hour, but the two had returned to their usual flirty, teasing banter easily enough.

It took a while for Beca to take it all in. Chloe Beale was her soulmate. Chloe _fucking_ Beale was her _soulmate_. The girl who’d barged into her shower, begged for her new mixes, self-enforced sleepovers, didn’t give a fuck that she wasn’t into movies, gave the best fucking cuddles in the world, and called her beautiful and made her believe it. The girl she’d spent two years dreaming about, the girl she’d made mixes and playlists for, the girl she’d bought half of Target for, the girl she’d watched a whole _two hour movie_ for, the girl she’d hum Disney songs for so she could concentrate and not fail Russian Lit _again_ , the girl she’d be willing to fall for.

The girl she’d already fallen for.

Three days was a pretty good time to process that she was in love with her best friend.

Her arm tightened slightly as she tripped on the paved streets of Copenhagen. Chloe’s laughter filled her ears and she couldn’t stop the grin as she looked back up into shining blue eyes.

Yeah, even she couldn’t deny that she was in love with her best friend.

* * *

“But I swear if he hurts her I’m bringing out the big guns,” Beca continued, arms flying everywhere as she recounted what she saw to Chloe.

The redhead’s smile never vanished as she watched her pace back and forth, blue eyes following rapid movements and wavy brown hair. “She’ll be _fine_ , Becs. Em’s a big girl, she knows how to handle herself.”

“I know that, but I’m talking about _Benji_ ,” Beca huffs, stopping abruptly to cross her arms over her chest.

“Benji’s sweet,” Chloe cooed. “They’ll be cute together. Come on, _aca-mom_. Lighten up.”

“Ugh, no, _you’re_ the aca-mom, dork,” Beca’s nose scrunched in disagreement—or was it disgust? “I’m definitely the aca-dad.”

Chloe couldn’t stop the butterflies in her stomach and the tug on her lips. “Alright then, aca- _dad_. Das Sound Machine’s up and we’re after them. Come on.”

She led the way out to the stage’s wings, hoping her blush was hidden by the low-lighting. Aca-mom? Aca- _dad_? They were now _parents_? Shit. She shouldn’t be having these pictures in her head right now.

“You ready?” Aubrey took the spot next to her. Das Sound Machine’s voices played in the background as Bellas old and new started warming up and running over the original song once more.

She smiled, “As I’ll ever be.”

“Good, because you’ll need to take off your gloves soon.”

“What?” her face dropped, brows furrowing as she saw the seriousness in Aubrey’s eyes.

“I may not be the captain anymore, Chlo, and though I do think you look gorgeous in gloves, it really isn’t part of the ensemble today,” Aubrey pointed at the Bellas clumped in a messy pile.

No one—whether marked or simply those in the trend—had their gloves on. In Chloe’s defense, though, all the marked Bellas’ compasses were _faded_ , which meant that they _had_ their happily ever after. Chloe was still looking for hers—or at least waiting for hers to get it together.

“But—”

“You’re included, hobbit,” Aubrey turned to her co-captain who’d just arrived.

Beca clearly hadn’t heard the first half of the conversation. “Included in what?”

“No gloves tonight.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“But—”

“No. Gloves.”

“But you’re not even the captain!”

“Do you want us to vote on it?”

Chloe watched as the brunette looked around, noticing the other Bellas looking on with barely concealed interest. It was an obvious fight they were going to lose. She watched the fight leave the brunette’s eyes as her shoulders hunched in defeat.

“ _Fine_ ,” Beca muttered, stalking away. “I’ll take them off right before we hit the stage.”

“Thank you,” Aubrey clipped politely, turning to Chloe with a quirked brow, arms crossed.

“Same,” Chloe shrugged, “Right before we hit the stage.”

* * *

Beca barely registered seeing the compass as they pulled off their set with incredible energy and enthusiasm and adrenaline and it was only as they were singing off the last chorus that she saw it—in the corner of her eye.

Chloe’s compass was pointing right at _her_.

* * *

Chloe could faintly hear Jesse’s “That’s my girl! I’m her lesbro! I’m going to be the best dude!” as warm, soft lips molded in to hers. Callous fingertips threaded behind her neck as she let the brunette pull her in deeper. She deepened the kiss, relishing in the aftertaste of the brunette’s sour gummy worm obsession and coffee addiction. Her hands fell on to slim hips and slid on to smooth back, pulling her close as the Bellas started to wolf whistle and yell something about money and winnings.

She couldn’t give a fuck if the entire universe were watching. She was kissing Beca Mitchell. Beca Mitchell was kissing _her_.

They pulled away, breathless and red faced. Unequally blue eyes glowing happily as goofy, blinding grins stretched their lips.

“Sorry,” Beca’s laugh was breathless and she didn’t really look all that sorry—sorry for what, Chloe had no clue.

“For what?”

“For taking so damn long.”

“Pay me back in kisses.”

“That’s cheesy.”

“You’ll do it anyways.”

“I will.”

And after four years of waiting, Chloe Beale felt like she finally knew which way to go.


	4. Chloe & Beca Mitchell-Beale

She watched as long tan legs paced back and forth on their rug. Converse-clad feet dragged through the faded blue carpet before turning sharply on their heel to return to the other side of the rug. It was starting to get worn down. They’d need to buy a new one at this rate.

“Okay, Em, you need to take a seat,” Beca returned from the kitchen, handing Emily a glass as she gently led her to the armchair next to the couch before practically sitting on Chloe. Not that she minded, but it seemed to make Emily tense.

The redhead slid out from under her fiancée easily, taking a spot in the center of the couch as Beca grumbled but complied. She felt cold fingers thread through hers and squeezed once before returning her attention to the fidgeting girl in their living room.

“So what are you worrying so much about, Em?” Chloe’s tone was much gentler than Beca’s, more prodding and less to-the-point.

“Well, he,” the current Bella captain playing with the rim of her glass. “He doesn’t have his yet.”

Chloe watched as the girl’s eyes started to water and she could feel Beca’s hand tense in hers.

Beca’s tone was almost motherly—it would have been really damn cute if a twenty-one-year-old hadn’t been the cause. “No, Em, Emily, don’t cry, it’s okay.”

Chloe let out a small sigh, as she watched the girl try to pull herself together. “It’ll be okay, Em. Soulmates don’t always get their compasses at the same time.”

“I know, but what if he _doesn’t_ get one?”

“You don’t know that, just like you don’t know if he’s the one,” Chloe thought of her words carefully before deciding what to share. “You know, I got my compass my first senior year, after the aca-initiation party. Beca didn’t get hers until much, _much_ later.”

“I feel like I should be offended, but that is a fact.”

Chloe rolled her eyes before continuing, “I didn’t know if she’d ever love me back or if my compass would crack or if she would even _get_ a compass. But I knew that I loved her and I followed that one simple fact.”

Beca’s brow quirked, turning to her, “Loved?”

“Loved, love, loving, will forever love. Stop interrupting, you nerd.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Anyways, soulmates are all great and good, Em, but they don’t have to rule your life. You date who you want to date and marry who you want to marry. Fuck the universe for telling you otherwise.”

That brought out a strangled laugh from their aca-child, her fingers shakily wiping away the stray tears. “I guess you’re right.”

“She’s definitely right,” Beca, always the girlfriend/fiancée pleaser.

“Benji loves you. The universe be damned if they try to take him away from you,” Chloe grinned as a small smile finally flitted on to Emily’s lips.

“Still, if he ever hurts you, I’m just a call away,” Beca nodded solemnly. “I didn’t take those two Muay Thai sessions for nothing.”

“Beca!” Chloe’s indignance overlapped with her amusement. She knew her fiancée was trying to be serious, but even she couldn’t deny that the thought of the little music producer beating _anyone_ up was hilarious.

“Thanks guys.”

“Anytime, Legacy,” Beca shrugged, standing and tugging on her fiancée’s hand. “Now come on, it looks like we all need an ice cream fix.”

“You just want to try out that new gelato place down the block,” Chloe teased as Emily drained her drink and followed the couple.

Beca looked over her shoulder to roll her eyes, “ _Duh_. Plus, my lady always deserves to be treated. And the aca-child. You deserve a few treats, too.”

Chloe could hear Emily’s laughter behind her. “Thanks, aca-dad.”

* * *

She’d only experienced a year of fame so far but she’d already started to hate the paparazzi in California. She’d walk through downtown Los Angeles hand in hand with her girlfriend and the press had called them the cutest gal pals in the country. She’d bring her to the first awards show she’d ever been nominated in and kissed her _right on the lips_ and the articles praised them for discovering their sexuality together. It took her first ever self-sung original and an Instagram post with the hashtag _#engagedtotheloveofmylife_ for the media to _finally_ take the hint.

Still, she couldn’t give a fuck about the shitty paparazzi when her fiancée had her arms wrapped around her waist and was humming her latest song into her ear.

Her songs always sounded better when Chloe sang them.

“You don’t want to wait for them inside, babe?” Chloe asked for the fourth time since they’d stepped out before continuing to hum.

It took her a while to remember to reply. Chloe could do that sometimes. Leave her speechless. “Um, no. Jesse and Anna are as shit at directions as you are and Stacie said that Aubrey’s driving and I’d hate to miss the chance to see Posen run over some of these suckers.”

Chloe snorted, burying her head into her neck as Beca relaxed at the lazy kisses she’d started planting. “Makes me worry that I’ll end up with no maid of honor.”

“Please,” Beca scoffed teasingly. “Fat Amy would _gladly_ replace her in a heartbeat.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s still waiting for you to make her _your_ best dude.”

“Ugh, no, _please_. We are not calling _anyone_ my best dude.”

“Whatever you say… _dude_.”

“ _Dude_.”

Chloe giggled into her neck and Beca suppressed the shiver that ran down her spine. She could feel Chloe’s lips lifting into a smile before placing one last kiss on her shoulder and pulling away at the sound of a roaring engine.

“Aubrey and Stacie are here,” Chloe and Beca’s eyes flew to the distance as the sound of a speeding vehicle neared the building swarmed by reporters (reporters that the two had been pointedly ignoring for almost fifteen minutes).

A truck barreled down the street, showing no sign of slowing down as it neared the establishment and seemed to be aiming for the spot right in front of the couple—where _all_ the reporters stood.

Some seemed to understand the situation better than others—scrambling out of the way as some unlucky few stayed rooted confusedly in their spots.

Beca shot the straggling few a look, “I’d scram if I were you.”

The truck was nearing at an impossible speed and the other few reporters realized that it wasn’t going to stop in time, running off and away just as the truck screeched to a halt in front of the cute little Spanish restaurant.

The couple shot each other amused little smiles before the truck’s front doors opened and a tall brunette and blond jumped out.

“Chloe!” Aubrey cheered as Stacie greeted, “Hey, Mitchell.”

Aubrey was quick to latch on to Chloe, the two girls squealing and hugging and giggling all at the same time. Beca’s heart warmed at the sight, her grin growing before her attention returned to the taller brunette.

“Conrad,” Beca grinned as she greeted the girl with a hug, Aubrey and Chloe’s excited exchange passing as fast as Stacie and Beca hugged.

“Hobbit,” Aubrey acknowledged her as she pulled away from her redhead and Chloe started greeting Stacie.

“Posen,” Beca smirked, giving the girl a quick hug before Chloe ushered the two in after giving the valet the keys to their truck.

As Chloe showed the girls their seats, Beca stayed by the front door and noticed the couple walking towards her down the pathway, a brunette boy waving excitedly at her from the distance. Despite the sigh that left her lips, a smile tugged at the edges as Jesse and Anna arrived and hugged her—the former’s hug much more excited.

“You’re getting _married_ , Becs!” Jesse bounced as she waved for the couple to follow her in.

“I _know_ , dweeb,” she rolled her eyes, her smile betraying her supposed annoyance.

“So are you going to wear a suit or dress?” Anna asked as they neared their table at the back of the restaurant where Chloe was still standing as she held the menu.

Beca shrugged as she stopped behind Chloe and wrapped her arms around her, “Whichever one Chloe wants.”

“Whipped,” Stacie coughed into her hand, Aubrey elbowing her with a roll of her eyes.

Chloe smirked, turning in her arms to husk, “And what if I want you in nothing?”

She couldn’t hide the hunger in her eyes and the lust in her voice as she leaned in, “That could be arranged.”

“Ladies!” Aubrey’s voice startled them back to reality. “Kick the toner down a notch and let’s get back to business?”

Only Chloe had the decency to look the least bit sheepish. “Sorry, Bree. Right! Thanks for coming everyone.”

Beca went on autopilot, pulling out Chloe’s chair for her before settling into her own seat to the redhead’s left.

Jesse was waggling his brows at her while Stacie smirked proudly, Beca choosing to ignore both of them to focus on the actual conversation.

Even though wedding planning at nine in the morning was not how Beca wanted to spend her Sunday—she couldn’t really complain much considering it was _her_ wedding they were planning. Her and _Chloe’s_ wedding. Her and Chloe’s _wedding_.

It still felt like a bit of a dream.

Some days, she’d stare at the compass tattoo left on her hand and wonder how she got so lucky. How in the world did she end up with a woman like Chloe Beale? How in the world did she end up _with_ Chloe Beale?

Her eyes shifted to watch blue, blue eyes shining, a smile curling at the edge of her lips. Excited planning for their wedding in some small country with really nice beaches washing over her like gentle waves.

Sure, Beca Mitchell hated travelling, but she’d follow Chloe Beale to the ends of the earth if she wanted her to—even if it meant getting lost over and over again.

She’s already lost in love with Chloe Beale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The End.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Because I couldn't end without these two involved in even more fluff ;)


End file.
